Eyes
by greekeskimokid
Summary: House treats an abused teenage girl and ends up adopting her.
1. Chapter 1

She had the same eyes. It was like looking into a mirror of myself. This girl at sixteen years old had the same eyes as a forty something year old man. She had the same cold uncaring calculating stare. I couldn't believe it when I meet her to tell her what he medical issues were.

She stared at me with those eyes. Unlike my ocean blue, hers were a light brown. But they pierced me like a knife. She showed no emotion. I, for once, couldn't tell if it was because she didn't care or was shocked at the simplicity of her illness.

Her father was standing outside the room, as I left he went in. He was happy, I'm sure, to know that she was going to be fine. Some minor dietary changes were in need, but she would be okay. She would be discharged tomorrow.

* * *

I walked by her room the following morning as she was gathering her things. My team was wishing her well and soon left, never noticing me. I was focused on that room.

For what ever reason, I could not take my eyes off of it. I had a bad feeling.

"House." Wilson, my best friend, called my name.

"Hey." That was all I could mange to say.

"I'm sure you saw the monster truck—House…" Wilson was speaking. I heard him but I didn't listen as the girl's father walked in.

The next thing I knew I was walking as fast as I could with my leg to that room.

Her father had hit her. I heard people calling for help, but I kept walking. By the time I was outside the door I heard him yelling that it was her fault that her mother was sick and dying and screaming random things. And she took the blame for all of it. Saying things like "yes dad" and "I know, I'm sorry" "Please dad stop"

By the time I had walked into the room she was on the floor in a ball. Blood was seeping out of her mouth. I was sure she had a few broken ribs. I put my cane in front of him successfully keeping him from hitting her again.

"Who do you think you are?" his eyes held a little more than crazy in them.

"Her doctor." I said it with such simplicity that he hit me. I lost my balance, but before he could hit me again security guards were on him.

I got up walked to the girl and knelt down ignoring the pain in my leg. I gathered her up into my arms. She clutched onto me. I just held her not moving and she cried. By the time the police were had showed, her father was a apologizing to her and telling her to forgive him.

"I'm sorry." That was all she could say. Wilson was by my side trying to comfort the girl.

Hi THis Is My First Fan Fic. I Hope You Liked It

I Do NOT Own House M.D Or Any Of The Characters.


	2. Chapter 2

"Her mother died." Wilson entered my office and sat down in the chair across from me. What he said hadn't registered in my mind, I could barley wrap my mind around it.

"What?"

"Her mother died of cancer. A friend of mine was treating her and called to tell me." Wilson waited for my reaction. Of course I wasn't willing to give him one. I moved my hand in a circular motion and said "Well, go on."

"He met the girl and said that he would keep her informed. He hasn't called her yet but will be today." Wilson sighed like it was his patient that had just passed away. It was a quality in him that I loved, that he could care but at the same time not care. When he gets home he might think about her for a moment, then he'll move on. It's an essential skill when you're a doctor.

"Do you know when he'll be calling?"

"I don't know House, that isn't something that you ask."

"It's something I would ask."

"Yes well, you have no moral or ethics." I stood up from my desk and grabbed my cane.

"Where are you going?"

"The zoo."

* * *

I assumed since Wilson had just received that phone call form his friend, it wouldn't be too much longer till she got it. I was standing outside of the glass walls watching her talk on a cell phone. She showed no emotion on her face. I couldn't read what she was felling inside.

"House, what are you doing? Shouldn't you be making up these things called, clinic hours?"

"Shouldn't you be shopping for a lower cut business suit," I lifted my cane and pointed at her chest. "or is that as low as they come?"

Cuddy pushed my cane away form her chest. "House seriously, what are you doing."

I averted my eyes to the floor before I looked at the girl in the room. "I'm checking up on my patient." I looked back at Cuddy with my emotions carefully hidden.

"Really?" Cuddy gave me an incredulous look that said "what the hell".

"No, I waited for you to come and bug me about clinic hours." She sighed and walked away.

When I looked back to the girl in the room she was off the phone. At one point during my conversation with Cuddy, Cameron walked into the room. She did the routine check of the equipment and what not. I saw Cameron's lips move. Then the girl's lips moved. Cameron looked as if she was about to cry. She hugged the girl, who hugged back, more for Cameron's benefit than her own. When Cameron let go, she walked out of the room.

She spotted me outside of the room and came to me.

"Her mother died of cancer." I could see that see she was remembering the husband she lost to cancer.

"I know."

She gave me a confused looked and asked "How?"

"Wilson. He is friends with the doctor that was treating her mother." I turned my face from Cameron. She took that as a sign to leave.

I reached for the bottle of pills in my pocket and dry swallowed them. I watched her and remembered the fear on her face. It seemed so long ago since her father had publicly beat her, but it really had only been three days. I moved from the spot that I was standing and made my way to Cuddy's office.

I opened the door, just enough to put my head through. "Her mother died of cancer." As abruptly as I had entered, I left. I started to make my way back to my office. I heard the clack of high heels fast approaching from behind me.

"That's a cruel joke House."

I didn't look at her as I pushed the up button on the wall with my cane. "Who said I was joking."

She stopped in her tracks and looked at me. She could see that I wasn't lying. She turned around and headed in the direction of her office.

My team and I ended up not having a case that day, so I sent them all home early. I put my coat on and made my way to my patient's room. I stood there for a few minutes, letting thoughts run through my head. She was abused. She could hide her emotions. She didn't have any friends, at lest none came to visit. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Wilson.

"I know you care." I could hear the smirk that wasn't on his face. I didn't say anything because he was right. I did care. I don't know why that it was this girl, but it was. Maybe it's her because I saw myself in her. She's not a military brat, but from the amount of schoolwork she has been doing, she's intelligent.

I heard Cuddy's shoes before I saw here. She entered the room with two other people. I walked in. Wilson was right behind me.

A taller, muscular man spoke first. "Hello, Talia Sukatoes." She corrected his mispronunciation of her last name.

"Sokratous. How can I help you?" Her voice wasn't quite and soft. She had a way of speaking that wasn't arrogant, but more knowing or knowledgeable.

"Your father went to court. He got the maximum sentence for child abuse."

I said something so she wouldn't have to. "What does this have to do with you?"

The short older women spoke to me "We're from child services. She has to be put into a foster home." I was speechless. A foster home, I looked at Cuddy. She averted her eyes away me. Wilson stood there in the same position that I was. They couldn't send her to a foster home. God knows where she would end up.

"That won't be necessary. I will be Talia's guardian from here on out."


	3. Chapter 3

When I had said that I would be Talia's guardian I shocked myself. What had shocked me even more was that she didn't say anything against it. She acted like she didn't care. She would able to leave Princeton Plainsboro tomorrow. She will be coming home with me after I get off work.

I can't say that I'm looking forward to being this girl's new "daddy." With my past it is very likely that the same thing will happen to her under my care. I don't want that to be the case. I actually want this girl to say that she had someone to care and love her. This is going to be hard. I should give her back, but I'm not giving up on her. She's smart enough to know when to leave. I'm not her father after all. Right?

* * *

"I can't believe that you are seriously doing this." Wilson wouldn't let this go. I know it's crazy that I'm adopting a sixteen year old abused girl, but I do crazy things all the time.

"Well clearly you're just jealous." Wilson just nodded his at me. I just had to make a joke about everything serious, that's how the mask stays in place. The sarcastic comments, the cruel words, they are what keeps people at bay.

"House, you can't really be joking about this."

"Were you not here the last oh 15 seconds, oh wait I'm joking."

He sighed "When are you leaving?"

"In about an hour." I answered in all seriousness. I knew when to joke around and I knew when not to. I did when I wasn't supposed to anyway. It makes things a little more interesting.

"So, what are you taking her straight to _your _home, or going to hers?" She didn't want to come with me, at least that is what Wilson is hinting at. I was sure that that was true. I can't begin to imagine what she is going through, not the abuse so much, but the being adopted. I was, well out of mind on this one.

* * *

"Are you ready to leave?" I shouldn't have asked, I really shouldn't have. Her face was saying 'what the fuck are you serious'.

"Yes sir." Talia was, without a doubt, not going to be hassle for me, at least right away. She picked up her bag and walked to my side. We stood there for a moment staring at each other, it was like we were staring each other down. She broke the stare first and muttered "Can we go now?"

"Yep." I walked out the door as she followed me to my car. I climbed into the driver's seat and she took a seat in the passengers side. She put the bag that she had in her lap. I didn't say anything about it. She was probably using it as a security blanket. We made the short drive back to my apartment.

She followed me up to my apartment. She stayed behind me just enough to stay in my peripheral vision, but far enough so she could run if she needed to. Her poster said she was afraid even though her face wasn't showing it. She walked with her shoulders hunched over her body; she shuffled her feet instead of actually taking steps. When we reached my apartment I unlocked the door and moved away from the door allowing her to go first. She looked at me, then back at the door before she went in. Talia walked in far enough for me to walk in.

"Okay then, this is my humble abode, the room that you will be staying in is the first door on the right. Bathroom's across the hall." Talia nodded.

"What do I call you?"

"What?" What the hell kind a question is that?

"Well I can't very well call you 'daddy'." She had a good point. I wasn't her father so she really couldn't really call me "dad." Not may people called me Greg, I guess House would be the best bet until one of us wanted to change it.

"House is fine."

"Okay. Just 'House' or ''?"

"Just House." She began to walk towards her room, all the while her eyes scanning the rest of the apartment.

"Oh , tomorrow we will go to your pervious home and get you things." She turned around and looked at me. She was wearing the mask. That chilling mirror of myself.

"Yes sir." She turned and walked off into her room. I looked over at the clock; it read seven o'clock. It was early. Very early. I threw my back pack on the chair in the living room and flopped down on the couch. I turned on the television. Whatever was on was what I was watching. Jesus the hours went by slowly here. The phone started to ring in it's annoying fashion. I let it go to voice mail. _House it's Wilson, I'm coming over with Chinese for three_.

That's right. I didn't live alone anymore. That girl is quiet, no blasting music or punches to the wall. I completely forgot that she was even here. I went to go check on her when there was a knock a the door.

"Come in!" I yelled. Wilson made his was into the apartment and I made my way to Talia's room. I walked to the door and knocked on it. She opened it like there was murder behind her. She opened the door all the way before she spoke.

"Yes sir?"

"We have company and he brought food. You eat Chinese, right?" She looked am me like I was crazy.

"Yes." I nodded and turned and walked to the leaving room. She shuffled behind me.

"Talia, you remember Dr. Wilson?" I watched her to see how she would react. Quite frankly it wasn't what I expected. She stood up straighter and smiled a little.

"I'm sorry, no I don't. I take it you're a colleague of House?" She spoke like she was a formal party; she said my name so casually like she had been doing it for years. Wilson was shocked as well. He looked to me and I just shrugged.

"Uh—Yes we are colleagues and very good friends. What year are we on House, fifteen?"

"I think twenty…Jimmy." We smirked at each other. I shifted my gaze from Wilson to Talia. She had a smile on her face. Unfortunately it was not a genuine smile, it was a forced smile. There was an awkward silence.

"Well I was promised Chinese, so hand over the chicken lo mien." I hobbled over to the bags that were on the table. I opened up 3 take out boxes before I found what I wanted. Wilson started to help me go threw them.

"Talia do you have a particular preference?" Wilson asked Talia with the gentle smile he uses when he talks patients. I saw her eye twitch. I smirked, she didn't like the fake gentle smile and she knew it was fake.

"No seeds or nuts in mine please." Wilson looked confused.

"I have Diverticulitus." Wilson 'ahhed' and open a couple more containers. He handed her one that she took and looked into.

"Sweet 'n' sour chicken work?" Wilson looked nervous. It was funny how an abused girl could send people in waves of nervousness. She spent a few more seonds looking over the chicken. Smiled and looked up at Wilson.

"Yep it works." I plopped down on the couch, Wilson followed next to me. Talia sat on the single chair Indian style. I two sets of chopsticks to Wilson, who handed on to Talia. I wondered if she could use chopsticks. She knew how to use them and she used them well. Wilson was the first on to ask about how she was feeling. I hated personal questions and conversations. I truly did.

"I understand that tomorrow you be going to your—previous home to get your things." She stopped chewing for half a second. The pause was so fast I almost missed it. She swallowed before she spoked.

"Yes sir." Wilson left it at that and we finished our dinner in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

**I would like to apologize for the many grammar mistakes in the previous chapters. I am highly upset about it and should have taken more time to look through my work, I will eventually go back and fix it when I have free time.**

**I also would like to that I have no idea how long this story will be or how it will end because It was written and posted on a whim and by a dear friend was asked to continue it. I'm a novice at this and I thank hose of you who are watching this and review very much.**

* * *

I woke up close to eleven the next morning. I lied in bed for a moment before I reached over to my night stand, grabbed the orange bottle and swallowed a pill. I sat up in the bed, swung my legs over the side and limped to closet, where I put on a t-shirt that didn't match the blue plaid pajama pants I was wearing. I grabbed my cane from its spot next to the door and walked out into the living room of my apartment. It was clean. The girl cleaned the apartment. There were no take out food boxes on the table or floor, the whiskey glass that is normally on my piano was there but it was clean and sitting on top of a napkin. My books that were out were bookmarked and stacked next to the glass. The only thing she didn't do, it seemed, was the floors. When I walked into the kitchen it was the same thing. The pile of dishes that had accumulated in the sink was gone and the trash had been taken out. I was sure if I opened the fridge, it would be clean too.

I took a step into the kitchen and saw Talia sitting at the table with, what looked like, textbooks. She was writing quickly and flipping pages of a book back and forth. She didn't hear me walk into the kitchen due to the headphones blasting music directly into her ears. She didn't stop what she was doing until she saw me sit down across from her, which she promptly stopped what she was doing, removed the headphones and looked at me. She sat there waiting for me to say something that would allow her to get back to what she was doing, or what ever I told her to do.

"Did you clean the apartment?"

"Yes sir." She was being formal again, she felt as of she did something wrong. I looked at the open books in front of her. I was right, they were text books.

"What are you working on?" Her eyes flicked to the book than back to me.

"Bio AP." Well at least she wasn't stupid. She took my silence as a queue to keep working, leaving the headphones on the table, pounding out music. A peaceful quiet settled over us until her stomach growled.

"Hungry?" She didn't look up but nodded silently. I knew there wasn't much of anything in my kitchen since Wilson seemed to always make and buy me food.

"Well on the way to your previous home should we get something to eat?" She looked up at me, disgust flickering a cross her face before she nodded. Either she hated me or she hated fast food. I took the latter option. I remembered Cameron's history of Talia, and she ate healthy, took a multivitamin, and worked out, making it clear that she wasn't much of a fast food eater.

"We'll go grocery shopping on the way back, but I must warn you I'm not much of a cook."

"Oh that's fine, I can cook." The immediate response stunned me. She could say she cooked with the confidence. I doubt she could cook much more than steak ums and mac and cheese.

"Well, we'll have to test that statement later. Now get ready so we can go." She nodded, shutting her book, then followed me into the hallway. She turned into the room that was given to her as I continued to my bedroom. I changed into jeans and a t-shirt, throwing on a jacket as I walked out of my room. When I stepped into the living room, she was sitting stiffly on the couch, a jacket covering the skin on her arms, with the headphones around her neck.

"Ready?" It was stupid of me to ask but it just seemed like something a father figure would do. She nodded, walking out the front door first as I trailed behind her. She stood behind me as I locked the door to my—our home, before walking to my car.

* * *

I drove to the nearest McDonalds and pulled in the drive thru, stopping at the speaker. A muffled voice with a heavy Hispanic accent came over the speakers.

"_Hi Welcome to McDonalds how can I help you?" _ I scanned over the menu as the Big Mac meal catching my eye first.

"Yeah, I'll have a Big Mac meal with a coke and…" I looked over at Talia.

"Oh! Uh chicken nuggets and a water." I looked her, what teenager gets water at a fast food restaurant? As I stared, she started to fidget, her caramel eyes darting between the window and my face.

"_Is that all?" _I turned my attention back to the voice in the box.

"And a chicken nugget meal with a water. That's all." I drove around to the window without hearing the price of our meals. When I stopped at the first drive thru window paying the stout Spanish women, who handed me my change then stopped at the second window grabbing the food and putting in Talia's lap. She opened the bag and handed me my sandwich and fries as well as her fries, again I stared at her. She didn't notice my stare until she looked up at me.

"W-what?" I held out the red box of fried potatoes.

"Why did you give me these?" She looked down at the box of chicken and shrugged.

"I don't like French fries all that much." I dead panned, this girl was, not only a health nut, but a crazy one.

"You are insane." She shrugged and took a bite out of an asymmetrical nugget. As we drove dark gray clouds had began dumping water over the roads, forcing the half hour drive to Talia's former home to be longer. She spent most of the car ride silent, listening to music in one ear and used the other to listen to me. She easily directed me through the streets of her neighborhood, telling me to pull in next drive way. I looked at the blurry image of the house noticing it was a light green, not a neon or lime, but a tasteful natural green. I was trying to focus on the porch when he voice cut through my thoughts.

"You stay here, I'll go in, get an umbrella, and come back out." She looked at me waiting for an answer.

"Fine, you can get sick all you want." She opened the door, and trotted to the front porch. She stopped at the screen door and lifted up the rug and picked up a small brass key, the rain pounding her back. Her brown hair was soaked all the way through when was under the cover of porch roof, she stood there a moment shaking off water before walking to white door, unlocking it, and walking inside. She left the door open before emerging with a god awful red and white polka dot umbrella—with ruffles.

She opened the car door, sliding the monstrosity over the space between the car's body and the door. I held the umbrella which shielded from the rain, as Talia was getting pounded by it again. Her hair was sticking to her forehead, her bottom lip was protruding a little from her face in a small pout, showing she was that she was unhappy about standing in the rain. I walked as fast as I could with my cane on the wet ground. I wasn't walking fast as I focused on my feet, and when Talia didn't say anything I looked at her, her expression shocking me as I stopped walking. Her eyebrows were scrunched up above her nose and she was staring at my feet and cane. She nearly tripped over my stopped cane and looked at me, her expression changed slightly from worry to annoyance, but she still didn't say anything. I stood there waiting for a reaction, trying to provoke the teenager that was in her. She didn't say anything for a minute, then another, then another. My clothes were staring to feel damp. Another minute went by.

"Will you get inside already, the rain is cold!" I felt the smile tug at my lips at getting the reaction I wanted. I started to walk forward again at a faster, yet careful pace. She gracefully stepped around me to hold open the screen door, letting me go first before following under the roofed porch. I dropped the umbrella at the front door and walked into the house, I was stunned by the amount of pictures on the walls. They weren't family pictures but photographical works of art, everything ranging from dancers to food. The first black framed cluster of photos that caught my eye was of Talia on stage, as a ballet dancer, mixed in were pictures of a woman taking pictures. I kept looking at the pictures noticing the same woman; it must've been her mother. I noticed a picture of Talia's dad standing on white cement steps with a crystal blue ocean in the background; he didn't look the man that had hurt his daughter. I was brought out of my thoughts when Talia slipped and landed face first on the carpeted living room. She muttered, what sounded like, fucking rain and stood up to presumably dry off and change.

I looked around the house while Talia was gone. It was one story, small probably three room and two baths. The dining room, living room, and kitchen was more-or-less one big room, separated by a wall between the kitchen and living room. There was a small piano in the living room, the one you would see in a saloon in an old western movie. I looked at the pictures in the walls to see if I could find and inkling of who played it. It was also the mother. There was a high chance that she played too.

I sat down at the piano and lifted the cover. The keys were an off white and worn from age. I ran my finger over the smooth keys. I'm sure Talia's mother played when she was pregnant, giving the girl's mind a reason to grow. I played several memorized scales testing out the pitches and acoustics of the room. They weren't bad, a lot more than I was expecting. I continued to play, mostly jazz and blues, and stopped when I heard a thump behind me. Talia had set two, rather large, suitcases on the coffee table.

"I think it would be easier to bring the suit cases into the room with the clothes." A deadpanned look sat on her face for a second, before she straightened it and answered me.

"Because there are several other bags in these." Her tone was controlled and neutral, making it clear that she has had plenty of practiced hiding emotions. She unzipped the two large suit cases and began pulling different kinds of duffle bags and travel bags. When she was done there were at least ten different bags. Talia rolled the luggage of the table, down the hallway, and into her room. It didn't take long for her to pull all the clothes out of her closet and start folding them. I felt my head tilt as I looked her, eyebrows pulling toward the middle of my head. She did a double take my way.

"What?" She didn't stop folding clothes. I shook my head.

"It's just odd, what don't you do, because clearly you can clean and, by your word, you can cook." She shrugged, piling clothes into one of the suitcases. I turned my focus onto the room's surroundings. Just like the living room it was littered with pictures, except the ones here were more personal. Every, well nearly every, picture had a person; some pictures had people her age, kids younger than she, older people hugging, and portraits.

The sea of photos was interrupted by a large book shelf. I quickly scanned the shelves, noticing Dickens and Poe to be the two most prominent writers. The middle shelf had several different cameras, an open box with film, and various camera lenses. She was the little photographer of the family. Under, what I dubbed the camera shelf, was a shelf of strictly photography magazines and books. School and research books were on the last few shelves.

I walked to the book shelf and picked up one of the cameras. The one in my hand was digital. It seemed she liked to use a variety of different photography styles; I wouldn't be surprised if she had a dark room somewhere. I put the camera down and looked back to Talia. She was now stuffing contents of the small dresser into a suitcase already stuffed to the brim. She managed to close the black rectangle and looked at the next one then sighed. She looked at me, then the book shelf then back to the suitcase. Unexpectedly, she jumped.

"I should pull out something for dinner." She hoped over the bed and into the hallway. I stood there for a second confused before I realized what she said. I walked to the door and suck my head out into the hallway.

"You better not be making some kind of tofu crap!" I turned around back to the book shelf noticing the older the writer the more worn the book. Good God, I probably unintentionally adopted the weirdest teenager on the planet.

* * *

Talia had, God knows how, fit all of her clothes and shoes, plus several personal items into two large suitcases. She had gone into her closet and found a camera bag that she had put the cameras and lenses in; she also put an Apple laptop in the bag. Her parents must have had money.

After she had finished packing she went to the kitchen. She made some form of chicken that I wasn't quite familiar with. The girl really could cook, maybe not like Wilson or my mom, but she definitely knew what she was doing. When she had finished cooking we sat down at the small table in the, rather large, kitchen; the phone rang ten minutes into the meal. She said "hello" in English then moved into fast fluent speaking Greek. There were two words I could figure out, matera and patera. She was talking about her mom and dad to whomever was on the phone. The conversation was about ten minutes before she hung up the phone.

"You speak Greek?" She had taken a bit of chicken and nodded with her mouth full. I let her chew and swallow before I asked another question.

"Who taught you?" She stared at her plate before looking up and answering.

"My yiya. Yiya is Greek for grandma. I spent a year in Greece and spent most of my time with my grandparents." Before I could ask another question she beat me to the answer.

"My dad got a transfer to Greece, and both my parents wanted me to learn my heritage so they took me instead of my dad going by himself, it's also where the that picture of my dad was taken." The colored one of the dad amongst the black and white prints. She picked up her glass and took a sip; she fiddled with the glass, a small smirk appearing on her lips. I asked another question.

"When did the abuse start?" her entire body froze, then relaxed seconds later. Her hands didn't stop playing with cup.

"When felt it was time to start hitting me." She looked up at me with her eyebrows raised and mouth pulled in a tight smile. Okay. Talia wasn't ready to talk about it, and she probably wouldn't be for a while.

She stood up grabbed the soiled plates from the table and washed them. She washed, dried, and put the plates away; she then went back to her to finish throwing things into the suit cases.

It was close to eight thirty when she told me she was "ready" to leave. I hadn't really helped much, but I don't think she expected me to either. She brought the largest suitcases out first then the several smaller suitcases and bags. She fit them all into the trunk and slammed it shut. I stayed on the front porch and waited for her to finish what she everything she felt she needed to do. I watched her through the open window, noticing that she lingered by the piano. She stood there with a stream of tears down her face.


End file.
